


Right Round

by Arya_Greenleaf



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: Background Relationships, Bisexual Character, Demisexuality, Feelings Realization, House Party, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Canon, Spin the Bottle, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27523900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arya_Greenleaf/pseuds/Arya_Greenleaf
Summary: “Good night, Bill,” Ted repeats, most resolutely. He pivots and jogs back up the block again and doesn’t stop until he’s at his own front door.Bill stands there under the streetlight, touching his lips. “Good night, Ted.”
Relationships: Ted "Theodore" Logan & Bill S. Preston Esq., Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 77





	Right Round

**Author's Note:**

> Limited canon typical use of "fag." 
> 
> Background relationships refers to both Bill and Ted expressing interest in and interacting with other people, chiefly girls. Endgame is B/T, of course.

Bill is most non-keen on this party. He'd rather just be at home, laying around listening to records or watching tapes. They could have ordered a whole stack of pizzas and a pile of garlic knots with the cash his dad left him for the weekend. He could practically taste the pepperoni as he thought about it -- well-done and crispy-crunchy on top of bubbly, scalding hot extra cheese.

They could have spent the whole weekend coming up with Wyld Stallyns' very first real song! The house was empty, they could play records and their guitars as loud as they wanted as late into the night as they pleased.

But, they'd been invited to this party and Ted begged Bill to go and when Ted begs, Bill finds it most impossible to say no.

The problem wasn't the party, per say, or the people that were there. It was all dudes and ladies from school and around the neighborhood. There were a handful of very snobby girls from the private prep that Bill secretly wished would give him the time of day. On the outskirts of everything there were a few seniors who were pals with the older brother of the guy who was throwing the shindig. A most varied and chill guest list! 

The problem, was that it was a dumb  _ boy-girl _ party. Bill thought the whole concept had gone out with the sock-hop and the poodle skirt and if it hadn't then it should have. What was the point of all the pressure of these stupid things? The last time someone had one, the ladies' bathroom at school needed a revolving door with all the very tearful Junior girls going in and out while people whispered in the halls.

Bill felt like the connection between a dude and a babe should come naturally. Not with the bogus demands of the peanut gallery and seven minutes locked in a dark closet with someone you probably only knew in passing.

But Ted thought it would be fun and they didn't go to all that many parties because Captain Logan could be kind of a dick about the whole idea and Bill wasn't just gonna go without Ted. 

So, there they were, sitting on the edge of some guy's pool with their feet dangling in the water, discussing the merits of Roth and Hagar with a group of dudes they knew from P.E. Bill had managed to avoid the inside of the house for the most part and had steered Ted right away from the stairs down to the basement because the shadowy doorway just  _ felt _ like a most inauspicious omen of whatever was to come down there, only further punctuated by the screams and hysterical giggles that burst forth from the bowels of the house.

Some of the guys head back inside to get a refill on their Cokes and Bill reaches down to flick pool water at Ted. He grins but it's wiped off his face real quick when Ted twitches forward like he's going to push Bill in. He recovers and laughs. "Havin' fun, dude?"

"I am!" Ted nods hard enough to make his hair floof forward into his face and then shakes it back. "I forgot parties can actually be pretty rad."

Bill snorts and sticks his legs straight out over the water, watching it drip off and raising his brows at a pair of babes sitting on the other side of the pool with their legs in too. "You're like Rapuns-odore or something. Gotta sneak you out from your tower every once in a while."

"Dude, it feels like that. Dad's been pretty harsh this week."

"Good thing he's not home, then. What's his deal this time?"

"I got an  _ F _ on my last math test. Arguably, I can see his point, you know? I told him that Miss Ross hooked me up with one of the honor students for tutoring but he still flipped his wig."

"Heinous," Bill hisses.

"Hey, dude, I'm kinda cold. You wanna go inside?" Bill agrees and Ted gets up. He puts a hand out to help Bill and jerks them toward the water, stopping Bill from falling  _ just _ before it's too late. The girls across the pool giggle and Ted bows dramatically. He claps Bill's shoulder and draws him in close while Bill shoves his feet back into his shoes and scrapes the rolled hem of his jeans down. "I wouldn't really do it."

"You better not -- I'd take your clothes to wear 'em home. You can be soggy!"

Ted laughs so hard it makes no sound. "Gross! Bogus!" They struggle for a moment with the sliding door when it gets stuck in the track. "Besides, my friend, my pants are too long for you. You would trip."

"Shut up, Ted," Bill laughs.

They weave their way through the house into the kitchen where someone is cutting open  _ Fla-Vor-Ice _ tubes and handing them out from the open freezer. They each grab a blue and let themselves be carried on the wave of sugared-up teenagers back out into the living room. The record player is on and the volume is turned up as loud as it can be without attracting too much attention from the neighbors. There's a bunch of people crammed into the space dancing in the most non-rhythmic sense that could still be called dancing. Bill clenches the plastic tube of his ice pop between his teeth as Ted yanks him into the middle of the crowd.

Everyone feels very close. Ted is jumping up and down to the beat of the music. His hair flies opposite to his jumping and turns into a tangled cloud around his head. A pair of girls Bill recognizes from homeroom slip between them and fall into swing with the way that they're moving. Ted grins and takes the hand of the one closest to him. He uses it to twirl her around while he sucks loudly on the melted blue stuff left in his tube. 

Bill feels claustrophobic. The girl in front of him is much too close. She keeps grabbing the front of his shirt and he wishes he had tied it around his waist instead -- although he supposes that would have potentially been even easier for her to hold onto. The idea of being so close to a babe like this is exciting but the practice of it is most off-putting. He doesn't  _ know _ this girl. He knows her, yeah, totally. But they're not pals. He doesn't even think she's ever said hello to him in all the months of school so far this year.

She could at least take him to dinner first,  _ geeze _ .

Ted looks delirious and happy Bill doesn't want to pull him away but he feels like the walls are closing in on him. He turns and tips his head back to let the last little chunk of blue ice slide into his mouth and the girl in front of him slides up right against him, wrapping her arms around him like she's some kind of snake monster. Bill chokes and she jerks away. He covers his mouth to stop from spraying blue stuff everywhere and she frowns when he backs off out of the dancing crowd. He puts his other hand up in apology and when he's out on the edge of the rug he pivots and heads for the hills.

Looking at babes?  _ Yes. _ Thinking  _ about _ babes? Thinking about being _ with _ babes?  _ Totally _ . Going on dates with them?  _ Most triumphant _ . Bill's even had a few real nice kisses in his tenure. But most things that seem really great in the metaphysical don't seem that wild in the physical-physical when he’s confronted with them. Ted always teases him about being old-fashioned but Bill doesn't really think it's that. The weird public-facing ritual of courtship feels nonsensical to him, all forced and fake.

"Dude! Bill!" Ted comes tumbling out of the living room into the kitchen where Bill is looking for a bag of chips that hasn't been crushed into crumbs yet. "I was wondering where you went."

"I went right here, dude."

Ted introduces the girl on his arm as Jen from homeroom and she blushes super red when he says her name. Bill peels open a bag of chips with that satisfying new-chip-bag squeal. 

"They just delivered a whole pile of pizzas and I'm starving. Come downstairs with us, my friend." Bill hesitates and Jen tugs on Ted's arm, willing him out of the kitchen. "I'll grab a pepperoni slice and  _ you can have all the pepperoni _ ," he sing-songs.

Bill relents. Double pepperoni sounds good and he cannot deny the siren call of a sumptuous salami. Ted's got his number and he knows it.

The basement is fully full-on out of the sixties. The wall paper is loud and the carpet is shaggy. Everyone seems surprisingly respectful of the bar in the corner, more interested in building a huge pyramid of Coke cans in front of it than raiding the cabinet. Bill is glad for that. When Captain Logan gets home and finds out Ted went to a party, he can answer truthfully that there were no non-legal activities involved. Captain Logan isn't the best at detecting lies but Ted absolutely has no talent for telling them. He's honest to the point of frustration sometimes.

The couches are full but there are bean bags on the floor and they're quick to claim a couple of them and drop into the squishy poofs with their pizza. They get absorbed into the conversation going on all around them. It's a handful of different ones that have converged into one stream with the record playing down here in competition with the one upstairs. It's loud and chaotic and Bill is pretty sure Spengler would be telling them all to knock it off.

"Hey, Bill," Ted says, and smacks him on the knee. "Isn't she that girl you like?"

Jen grins and it looks downright wicked. Bill shakes his head and shoves a piece of crust in his mouth. "Of course not, dude. Is my tongue still blue?"

Bill sticks out his tongue, mouth still mostly full. Jen frowns, grossed out, and Ted laughs. "Dude, your tongue is  _ totally _ still blue. How 'bout mine?"

"Blue as Bunyan's ox, duder."

"Sweet." Ted goes back to chewing but his attention strays again. "Bill, I definitely think that's her."

Bill finally looks where Ted is pointing and sure enough, he's right. Her name is Sam. She's new this year and in Bill's English class and she's terrifying. But, like, in a good way. Bill's talked to her a few times. She's from Santa Carla and she likes  _ Motörhead  _ and she plays the drums. He's wanted to ask Ted for the longest time if it might be okay to ask her to audition for the  _ Stallyns,  _ but he's afraid Ted might not like that.

"Dude, you should totally go talk to her. She looks bored."

"Nah, man, I'm here with you guys."

Jen narrows her eyes at Bill and takes a long sip from the can of Coke she's holding. "I think you should go."

Just a little spiteful, Bill shakes his head. "No, really, it's cool."

Laughter bursts out across the room and everyone turns toward it. "Bottle! We've got a bottle! We don't have to use the stupid  _ Twister _ spinner!"

“Ohh,  _ oh,  _ Ted -- Let’s play!” 

Jen chugs the rest of her soda and puts the can down behind the bean bag she’s slouched into. She hefts herself forward and tugs on Ted’s arm. He’s still got another slice of pizza in his lap and he’s carefully picking the pepperoni off so that the greasy little circles don’t rip.

“Aw, I don’t know. It’s a dumb game.”

“Please, Ted?” 

She bats her eyelashes and Ted blushes. He looks at Bill and gapes, his face a study in confusion. “Well, if Bill’s not gonna play -- “

“What are you hoping you’ll land on him or something?” She tugs him again, gently, and the bean bag shifts under him.

“ _ No _ , but -- “

“Well, I’m playing.” She drops his arm and takes a step back, still hesitating.

“Duder, go ahead!” Bill sits up and grins. He’s not gonna hold Ted back from doing something he wants to. He thinks Jen is kinda mean but Ted doesn’t seem to. He takes the paper plate with Ted’s half picked apart pizza on it when it’s offered to him. “Just make sure you don’t spin it toward Randy.” 

Bill jerks his chin toward the circle forming in the middle of the room a tall dude in a varsity jacket looks at the soda can in his hands and shouts, “ _ San Dimas high school football rules! _ ” before he crushes the can against his forehead. Ted makes a face and twitches then breaks into a laugh. Jen takes his hand again and leads him toward the circle. They sink down on the floor next to each other and Ted settles on his knees. His toes point in toward each other under his butt and Bill snickers to himself -- he never can make his feet straight.

Bill watches everyone whispering and negotiating spots in the circle, strategizing over where the bottle might point when it spins from any one direction. He finishes Ted’s pizza and surveys the crowd. He nearly jumps out of his skin when someone knocks over the top of the soda can tower and everyone shouts at them. There are others still sitting on the outskirts like he is, watching the game and whispering and snickering to each other so he doesn’t feel as awkward as he really could.

There’s some couples in the circle, Bill notices. He wonders how many of them are still going to be couples the next time he sees them in the halls at school. Bill watches the glass  _ Fanta _ bottle spin and scans the faces around it as it slows down -- some excited, some cringing, some vaguely confused like they’re not sure how they got there. Someone  _ whoops! _ and the circle shifts around. Ted rises up on his knees and shuffles a little closer to the person beside him.

“Bill!” Ted whispers over his shoulder. “Hey, Bill!”

Bill shrugs and shakes his head, not sure what Ted wants. Ted leans to the side and points back over his shoulder. Across the circle, Sam is sitting down next to another girl Bill vaguely recognizes from English class. She’s frowning and slouching like she doesn’t really want to be there and Bill can totally sympathize. He shakes his head at Ted again and waves him off. He’s most disinterested, even if Sam is there. He wants to invite her over for a jam session, not  _ maybe _ kiss her if it is so tremendously deemed by the gods of the spinning bottle.

The game starts and the room falls silent. Everyone on the outskirts leans in to watch and everyone in the circle leans back in trepidation. Every time the bottle slows and stops there are gasps and cheers whether or not the spinner and the spinee seem to want to complete the transaction. They make it through several rounds of play before the door at the top of the stairs slams open and whoever is at the top flicks the lightswitch on and off. The group whines in displeasure until the light stays on.

“Hey! If Randy is down there, your sister called -- your parents are on their way home!”

“Aw  _ man _ ,” the football player protests. “I guess I gotta go if I don’t wanna be  _ more _ grounded.”

“Bro, you better not, we got practice tomorrow!” someone calls after Randy as he takes the stairs two at a time.

The circle shifts around again and someone starts counting people. “Hey! We got an uneven number now!”

“So what?”

“ _ So _ , we need an equal number of babes and dudes otherwise we can’t play.”

“Who made up that rule?”

“I don’t know, man, it’s just a rule!”

Bill gets up from his bean bag to throw his and Ted’s garbage away and he hesitates near the pizza boxes. He could definitely have another. Just one more skinny piece, just to top himself off. He didn’t have lunch today so surely he has room and --

“Preston!”

Bill cringes and hunches his shoulders, trying to make himself smaller. He feels like he’s gotten called out in gym class for doing girly-style push-ups.

“Preston, come here, we need a dude.”

He chucks his plate into the garbage can and folds his arms. “There’s other dudes, dude.”

The other guys in the room look totally disinterested. They’re chugging sodas and rebuilding the can tower in one corner and having a hot debate about AV equipment in the other. Bill’s a deer in the headlights.

“ _ Dude _ , he doesn’t wanna play,” Ted says softly.

“Well then one of the girls has to leave!” Sam starts to get up and the girl she’s next to yanks her back down again. She crosses her arms and broods silently, casting an exhausted glance in Bill’s direction.

“What’s the matter, Preston? Don’t know how’da kiss?” Someone makes sloppy, lip-smacking sounds in his direction.

“Of  _ course _ I know how to kiss.” He straightens up and puts his hands on his hips. He’s suddenly very conscious about the length of his shirt with everyone staring him down.

“He doesn’t have to play,” Ted insists. “That’s a dumb rule anyway.”

There’s a ground of groaning and goading and Bill finally says, “Fine!” and squishes himself into the circle between Ted and some girl from the private school gaggle. He decidedly no longer wants any of them to give him the time of day but he does his best to not look too mad about it.

“Hey, Bill,” Ted nudges him with an elbow. “I bet it won’t even land on you. It’s statistically very unlikely.”

“How ‘bout when it’s my turn to spin?”

“Well then spin it so it lands on yourself!”

“My friend,  _ that _ is statistically unlikely.”

“Won’t know until you try.” Ted shrugs and settles down again and Bill is sure that when he tries to get up, his legs are going to be numb if he stays like that with them folded underneath him.

The game progresses painfully slowly and Bill is getting painfully bored. The bottle passes from hand to hand and gum passes from mouth to mouth. Sam begrudgingly reaches forward to take her turn and the girl who is apparently holding her captive in the most non-friendly way waggles her eyebrows at Bill across the circle. He frowns the ugliest frown he can conjure and she finally looks away, pouting. What’s the point of being so rude, he wonders? What is the point of  _ any of this? _

Sam covers her eyes as the bottle whirls around and peeks just one open as it starts to slow. Bill holds his breath as the mouth lazily swings towards him, clearing the last few people and…

It stops on Ted.

Sam’s expression is impossible to read. She looks stoic and resigned and flips her hair from one side to the other so that her mass of way over-processed blonde curls spring around her face. Ted turns to Bill and cringes in apology. Gentlemanly enough, he waits for Sam to lean forward across the circle and only holds his closed lips against hers for as long as she’ll tolerate. They’re shiny when he sits again and he laughs, totally oblivious to the sourpuss Jen is wearing.

“Cherry!” 

Sam rolls her eyes and picks at her shoelace while some of the others snicker.

The game continues. Jen’s spin doesn’t land on Ted and Bill is maybe a little happier that she’s been thwarted than he should be. Ted crawls forward to grab the bottle where it’s been knocked across the circle and places it firmly back in the middle. Grinning, he spins it as hard as he can and it goes flying around topsy-turvy.

People are practically  _ screaming _ , getting louder and softer in waves while the bottle makes wild rotations. Feet pound on the floor excitedly as the bottle slows and the person sitting on the other side of Jen jostles her and she giggles and holds their hand.

The bottle swings around,  _ slowing _ , turning by  _ fractions _ .

And stops on Bill.

And stops on Bill?

Bill.

The bottle stops on Bill.

Bill and Ted look at each other and fall to pieces laughing. “Dude!” Bill wheezes and pushes the bottle back toward Ted. “I think you get a re-do.”

Ted takes the bottle back and starts to spin it again, some of the group starting a low chant of  _ re-do, re-do _ while others protest.

“Nah, he’s gotta kiss ‘im! Those are the rules!”

“That’s dumb, why would they want to kiss?”

“You guys made me kiss Kenny.”

“Hey!”

“That’s different,  _ Cecilia _ .”

Sam shakes her head and takes the confusion as her chance to escape the circle. Bill wants to follow her lead. Everyone is staring at him and Ted and it’s completely heinous. They can’t see it, but Bill knows Ted’s ears have probably turned bright red. Ted laughs and spins the bottle again anyway. It’s not as strong a spin this time, just loops around lazily until it stops…

Once again pointing straight at Bill.

“The universe has spoken!” Someone shouts and everyone busts out laughing. It rolls from amusement into tense second-hand embarrassment and back again as Bill and Ted gape at each other. A low chant flows from person to person. “Kiss him,  _ kiss him _ ,” and it turns from a chant into a hiss.

Ted throws his hands into the air and tries to reason with the mob. “Bill is my  _ most _ excellent friend, guys, c’mon.”

Someone snickers. “Do it!” 

“C’mon, Ted, this is bogus,” Bill mutters and shifts so he can stand. Sam had the right idea, he thinks, abandoning this heinous nonsense.

“Well, fine then!”

Somehow everything that happens after Ted turns toward him happens in slow motion and fast motion at the very same time. It’s a total trip and Bill can’t hardly process it until it’s finished.

Ted reaches forward and seizes Bill’s face in his hands. Bill looks up at him, the protest that’s forming in his head moving most slowly down all those electric bits toward his tongue. Ted tips Bill’s face upward and pokes his own down so that their lips meet.

Bill watches it all happen with wide-eyed astonishment.

Ted closes his eyes and his lashes brush against Bill’s skin. He can feel his teeth pressing against the inside of his lips for a moment until Ted backs off a little and it’s nothing but soft lips touching his.

When Ted pulls away, Bill’s face is clammy and sticky where his hands were. He feels like he’s blushing all over and he hopes he’s not really. Ted’s cheeks are pink and he looks panicked.

Bill snorts and pushes Ted gently. “Fag,” he laughs.

Ted laughs back and then everyone laughs and then Jen yanks him around and plants one serious kiss right on his mouth and everyone whoops and hollers. Bill scoots back out of the circle and it reforms in his absence without another thought. He makes his way upstairs and out into the crisp evening air on the porch.

“They’re all awful.”

Bill jumps, startled and turns toward the sound. Sam is perched on the railing most precariously, one foot up so she can rest her arm against her knee and the other dangling into the hydrangea bushes below. She points her face away from Bill and into the direction of the breeze. She purses her lips and exhales a stream of smoke. She holds out her hand and offers her cigarette to Bill. He takes it from her and sucks on the end of it most inexpertly. He tries to hold onto the smoke for a moment and coughs, letting it all rush out of his mouth in a big, spitty puff. Hands on his knees he holds the cigarette out for Sam to take back.

“I thought you got out of here already,” Bill sputters. He hops up onto the railing, too, and swings his feet back and forth, facing the house. The door opens and music and teenagers spill out onto the porch and then down into the front yard. They scatter, all going their separate ways home.

“My ride is still in there, I’m stuck until she decides she’s had enough. Have you had enough, Preston?”

Bill’s not sure how else to answer but to laugh. He thinks this might be the longest conversation he’s held with her, at least not in a group setting. She’s very frank, he likes that in a babe. No pretense or pretension. He likes that in anybody, really.

“I hate those games,” Bill finally says. “Most non-triumphant.”

Sam considers it for a moment and agrees. “No one ever finishes them happily.”

“Right? I don’t get why teenagers subject themselves to such bogus rituals generation after generation.”

Sam snorts and takes one long last drag on her cigarette. She stubs it out on the sole of her boot and flicks it out toward the lawn. “Cycle breaks with us. You know, Preston, I like you a lot.”

He’s not sure how he feels about that, being called by his last name. But there’s other information there that seems more important. “You do?”

“Yeah. You and Logan are probably the only guys in our year who haven’t tried to get me in the back of their car. I guess it’s the novelty of the  _ new girl _ .”

“Well, we don’t have a car to try to get you in the back of.” Bill says it as a matter of fact and cringes as it comes out of his mouth.

Sam laughs, thankfully. “That’s a funny way of putting it, isn’t it?  _ We _ don’t have a car.”

“We don’t!”

“You really  _ do  _ do everything as a unit.” Bill asks her what that’s supposed to mean. “Maybe I’ve been asking around.”

“You… you have?”

“Mhm. Heard you have a band.”

“Yeah!” Bill can’t help but light up a little. Should he ask? He hasn’t had a chance to run it by Ted yet. “Ted and me, we are the  _ Wyld Stallyns _ !” He pumps his fist into the air and grins.

“That horse you doodle all over your books -- is that your logo?” Bill nods and tells her he designed it himself. He draws all the stuff for the band. Tee shirts, hats, posters… he draws things for them, at least. “That’s pretty cool. Thinking in the big picture. I like it.”

“We’re trying to get Eddie Van Halen to record with us, but we’re not very good. I don’t think he’d agree.”

“That’s fine.” Bill is  _ most _ confused. “You gotta start out not very good if you’re gonna be really great later, otherwise what’s the point, you know?”

She’s most wise, Bill thinks. He wants to keep talking but he doesn’t know what to say. “Hey, how’d you do on that test yesterday? I felt like half of it was trick questions.”

Sam shrugs and picks at the frayed hole in the knee of her jeans. “I think I’m a little more critical than Franklin wants to deal with so probably not great. I haven’t gotten higher than a  _ C+ _ on any of the essays so far.”

“Well that’s not right. That’s bogus!”

Sam shrugs and rests her chin against her knee. “Preston, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“How is it so easy for you to fit in?”

“It’s not easy. I try very hard.”

“Did you go through with it? Letting Logan kiss you?”

“Yeah, Ted did it.” He shrugs. “Just to shut ‘em up.”

“He’s a very gentle kisser,” she laughs.

“He knew you weren’t super into it. He’s respectful like that.” 

It wasn’t totally unpleasant, Bill thinks, to let Ted kiss him. To be kissed. By Ted. He  _ is _ respectful like that. He teases, sure, but it’s not non-friendly. And it  _ was  _ a decent kiss as far as kisses go. But Ted is his most excellent friend and neither of them are fags so it really doesn’t matter if it was a nice kiss or not. It’s not something that could happen again even if the idea didn’t make him feel all cringey. Right?

“There you are!” A girl peeks out the door and grins at Sam. “You ready to get out of here? I got track in the morning, I gotta get some sleep.”

“Yeah, sure.” The girl says she’ll bring the car around and winks very unsubtly. Sam carefully drops her feet over the right side of the railing and hesitates for a moment. “You wanna catch a movie?”

“Now?”

“No,” Sam laughs. “Like next weekend or something.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan.” Bill grins and watches her go, waving when she gets to the sidewalk and her friend’s car pulls up. The door opens again as the car is pulling away and Ted bounds through it, halting beside Bill.

“So?”

Bill laughs. “So, nothing, dude!”

“Aw, c’mon!” Ted starts walking down the porch stairs and Bill follows. “I thought you guys were totally vibing.”

“What, were you watching us, dude?”

“Maybe.”

Bill laughs and pushes Ted toward the lawn. “Creep.”

“Just lookin’ out for you, dude.” Ted stretches and hops back onto the paved walk. “I’m tired.”

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“Jen?”

“Oh, yeah, too pushy. I don’t know what her deal was, but I sure am glad I won’t see her again until Monday.” Ted flicks his head to sweep his hair out of his face and it reminds Bill of a slow motion running-on-the-beach shot in a cheesy chick flick. His stomach hurts. “I’m a person, right? Not a slab of meat.”

“Nah, definitely not meat, duder. Maybe a couple noodles in a trench coat, though.”

Ted squints at him and Bill can practically  _ feel _ the joke about his height forming on the surface of Ted’s brain. Surprisingly, he lets the opportunity go. “I could totally go for some spaghetti.”

They make their slow, meandering way across town, darting in and out of the pools of light from the streetlamps. It’s quiet and still once they get away from the block the party is on, nothing stirring but the crickets and the odd delivery person. Ted spreads his arms out as he runs,  _ whooping _ and dipping from one side of the street to the other like a fighter pilot. Bill follows, jogging a little faster to keep up, bobbing in the opposite direction so they cross in the middle of the street. Ted grabs Bill’s hand and swings him around so he stumbles toward the sidewalk and back again.

“I’m really sorry, dude.”

“I’m good!” Bill grins and bounces on the balls of his feet.

“No, dude, I mean -- well -- I mean -- the game. I’m sorry.” Ted slows to a walk and Bill falls in step beside him. “I just wanted to shut them up. I get why you think that stuff is dumb now, it’s  _ way _ too much pressure.”

“It’s okay, my friend.”

“Bogus, dude.”

“No way! Totally not bogus.”

Ted pushes him a little and Bill feels caught under the streetlamp. “Fag!” Ted laughs and tugs him back out into the street again. He quiets, running out of steam and dragging his feet. “Right?”

Bill lets out a bark of a laugh. “Yeah, duder!”

“So… Sam?”

“We’re gonna go to a movie.”

“Whoah! Perfect!”

“Yeah!”

“She seems nice.”

“She is! She’s heard of us, too.”

“Whoah, dude!”

“I know! I’ve been thinking… maybe we could invite her to practice one day? She’s a drummer!”

“I think that’s a no-go, my friend. We haven’t even written a song yet.” Ted looks a little panicked when Bill frowns. “Maybe after we write something?”

“No, you’re right.  _ Wyld Stallyns  _ is us.”

Ted grins and grabs Bill’s hand, swinging it back and forth between them. “Oh, Bill,” he says in a most inaccurate imitation of a babe. “I’m so glad I moved away from my cool beach house where there were parties all the time and concerts by the ocean just to meet  _ you _ .”

“Jerk,” Bill laughs. He is glad though, that Sam’s family decided to abandon the paradise of the beach at Santa Carla for San Dimas. He’s excited to get to really know her instead of just know vaguely about her. 

Now that Bill thinks about it -- really thinks about it -- he doesn’t think that he  _ really _ knows anyone. He’s got plenty of pals. Most people at school like him, he’s pretty sure, at least. He feels like they’re all in his general orbit, like a great big solar system.

But he really only  _ knows _ Ted. Like Ted’s a moon sticking super close with a whole ton of gravity between them. But maybe Bill’s the moon?

Bill raises his arm to cough into his elbow, a tickle in his throat, and something stops him.

Ted’s hand is still in his.

Bill looks down at their hands, clasped so casually between them as they stroll through the abandoned streets. “Um, Ted? My friend?”

“Huh?” Bill lifts their hands and Ted looks at them for a moment, most befuddled. “Oh, sorry dude.”

“It’s okay.”

Ted cocks his head and stares very hard at Bill for a moment. “C’mon dude, I gotta get home before my dad calls to check on Deek.” He doesn’t drop Bill’s hand, just uses it to tug him along.

Bill marvels at the feel of Ted’s hand in his. He shifts and laces their fingers together and Ted doesn’t stop him. Their palms get sweaty and Bill hates the feeling but he doesn’t want to pull away.

He never wants to pull away from Ted, he thinks. He doesn’t mind having Ted in his personal bubble. He wants Ted there, even. Sometimes it feels like Ted’s a kind of security blanket. He makes Bill feel safe and confident. Who else could he be most wretched at playing music with and not worry about any kind of harsh critique?

They’re about a block away from Ted’s place when Bill halts. “Whoah!” Ted exclaims, most surprised by the stopping, yanked back with his hand still clasped in Bill’s. “You okay, dude?”

Bill isn’t sure about anything anymore. “Ted?”

“Yeah?” He steps back into the pool of light under the lamp with Bill. He doesn’t try to take his hand away.

“Was it awful?” Bill asks. “Kissing me?”

Ted seems to seriously consider it for a moment. “No.”

“Would you…” Bill doesn’t know what he wants to ask. He has so many thoughts and none of them will turn themselves into proper sentences for his mouth. “Would you have done it even if everyone wasn’t acting so egregious?”

Ted frowns and ponders. “Those  _ are _ the rules of the game, my friend.”

“So you didn’t think it was -- I don’t know -- weird? Gross?” 

Ted is still holding Bill’s hand -- or letting his hand be held -- and Bill is afraid to move. He  _ likes  _ the feel of Ted’s hot, sweaty hand in his. And what if Ted likes it too? If Bill moves then  _ surely _ Ted will think  _ he _ thinks it’s bad.

Ted laughs out loud and a dog in someone’s backyard barks. “Maybe a little weird, considering the circumstances -- but not  _ gross _ . That would be weird. If it was gross.”

“Oh?”

“Well, yeah! You’re my most excellent friend, dude. I don’t think  _ you’re _ gross, so…”

It feels like they’re both trying to say  _ something _ and neither one is really sure if they’re having the same conversation. Bill is so desperately confused. It’s like trying to take a geometry test when you only studied for history.

“Bill? Dude? I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“I don’t know!” He turns and pulls away and his hand in Ted’s hand yoinks him right back. Bill looks down at their hands and untucks his fingers and Ted doesn’t follow suit. He just stands there looking at Bill like he’s got five heads, holding onto his hand.

“Do you want…” Ted chews his lips and looks at everything around them except for Bill. Still holding his hand. “Do you want me -- I  _ mean _ \-- dude. Do you?”

“Do I, what?”

“Do you want me to kiss you again?” Ted mumbles.

Bill laughs out loud, turning completely away from Ted with their hands still clasped together -- their fingers all interlocked again. Someone turns the lights on in the front of their house. “Maybe? I don’t know. I guess. That’s bogus, dude. Heinous. Why would I want that?”

Bill feels like the whole world is spinning really fast around him, like a record meant for thirty-three being played at seventy-five. He feels hot and sick and maybe he  _ does _ want Ted to kiss him again and what the hell does  _ that  _ mean? Bill likes  _ babes _ , even if he’s not trying to get under every skirt that looks in his direction. Or any skirts, really. Ted isn’t a babe. He’s a good looking dude but he’s  _ not a babe. _ And Bill’s not a fag. And neither is Ted!

He’s gonna go to the movies with  _ Sam _ .

But Ted is standing there under the streetlamp with him, in the middle of the night, in the semi-silence of his half-asleep neighborhood. And then Ted is pulling him in with that hand he’s still holding and then his other very sweaty palm is on Bill’s face and then his  _ face _ is very close to Bill’s face  _ and -- _

Ted kisses him.

And there’s no one around them shouting and laughing and whooping. There’s no music. There’s no stench of too many bodies in one room, everyone’s breath stinking of pizza while they all breathe on each other. There’s no pushy girl from homeroom trying to pull Ted’s attention away. There’s no dumb football players crushing cans against their foreheads.

It’s just Bill and Ted and Ted looks real soft and shadowy under the yellow light, like he could be an invention of some wild dream Bill is having. And when Ted’s lips touch his again it’s like he’s fixed the RPM and they’re whirling around at just the right speed and it gives Bill’s brain the room to wonder if their tongues might still be blue and how his throat is  _ so dry _ and he could use another ice pop.

Bill lets Ted really kiss him, their lips sliding together instead of just pressing their faces against each other. He can’t do much more than to defer to Ted’s expertise in the matter because he’s most desperately out of his depth.

Bill feels sick still. He’s afraid and he’s relieved and most,  _ most _ confused. He feels too hot but he can’t stop shivering. He doesn’t know what to do with his other hand and he feels  _ dumb _ just letting it hang there next to him so he puts it on Ted’s waist and Ted flinches but he doesn’t move away.

Ted finally  _ does _ pull away and their lips stick together for a second and it’s totally embarrassing and Bill’s mouth is  _ so dry _ . But, Ted’s hand is still holding his face so very gently and the other is still clasped so very tight in his.

“Whoah,” Ted whispers. They stare at each other for way too long. “Was that okay?” Ted says, breaking the silence before it gets too weird.

Bill nods. He can’t find his voice and it feels bad because usually he doesn’t mind so much hearing himself talk.

“Did you like it?”

Bill nods again and he remembers his hand still resting there on Ted’s waist. “Did you?”

Ted looks down and Bill’s face is cold when he takes his hand away to touch his own lips. “I don’t know.”

Is it so strange? Bill wonders, for friends as close as they are? To like that? With each other?

Bill’s eyes feel very prickly but it’s not allergy season. He really wants to kiss Ted again. He wants to hold onto Ted like the couple in that heinously old movie they watched in English when Ms. Franklin was out on leave -- the one that was  _ way _ too long with the house that burns down. He wants to be  _ close _ .

Ted takes a step back and Bill takes his hand away and jams it in his pocket. Ted finally lets go and they both wipe their sweaty palms on their jeans. 

“I have…” Ted starts and stops. “I have  _ much _ to think about.”

Bill laughs and it’s only a little forced. “Don’t think too hard, dude, you’ll set off the alarms with the smoke from your ears.”

Ted grins and takes another step back, right to the edge of the pool of light. “I gotta get inside. If I miss that call --”

“Yeah, dude, go. Totally. I gotta get home anyway.”

“Call me when you get there? You know, just to make sure.”

“Of course.” Bill scrubs his hands through his hair and takes a step back, too. “G’night, Ted.”

“Night, Bill.”

Bill stands there for a moment while Ted goes. They’re headed in the same general direction and he feels like he should give Ted a head start. When Ted passes into the shadows between the streetlamps, Bill lets go of a very shaky breath and covers his face. “Pull yourself together, Preston,” he mutters.

Bill doesn’t hear the sound of quick sneakers on pavement over his own loud breathing.

Ted’s nose smashes against his knuckles and his lips just barely catch Bill’s.

Bill lowers his hands and doesn’t bother to try to hide his astonishment.

“Good night, Bill,” Ted repeats, most resolutely. He pivots and jogs back up the block again and doesn’t stop until he’s at his own front door.

Bill stands there under the streetlight, touching his lips. “Good night, Ted.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments!
> 
> [Find me here.](https://aryagreenleaf.carrd.co/)


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